[ Iorveth is convinced that no one in any plane of existence has any right to tell Astarion how to deal with two hundred years of being tormented by Cazador, which means that he wouldn't mind if Astarion tore their (Gale's) bedroom apart out of pent-up rage. Still, he can't help but reach for Astarion before he leaves, pressing a light kiss to the corner of that pouting mouth. Not out of any desire to discourage him from brooding, but simply because he wants to.
With that, he turns and slinks downstairs to demolish whatever food is left on the dining room table. As always, Gale has outdone himself― Iorveth can't tell if the guy usually spends so much time cooking for himself, or if he's been doing Gale a disservice by sleeping through dinners that Gale might have wanted him to join― and Iorveth is content to clear the plates in record time, fueling his overactive metabolism with stews and breads and casseroles. Phew.
He's mostly done with everything by the time Astarion comes down to join him, munching thoughtfully on the last of his dessert (a batch of very tasty and buttery biscuits) as he considers how best to barter with an old collector who may be loath to part with her things. People like that usually say that they can't be persuaded by coin; Iorveth has no clue what else he could barter with, which is a bit of a pain.
Anyway. He looks up, and motions for Astarion to sit next to him if he'd like. ]
no subject
With that, he turns and slinks downstairs to demolish whatever food is left on the dining room table. As always, Gale has outdone himself― Iorveth can't tell if the guy usually spends so much time cooking for himself, or if he's been doing Gale a disservice by sleeping through dinners that Gale might have wanted him to join― and Iorveth is content to clear the plates in record time, fueling his overactive metabolism with stews and breads and casseroles. Phew.
He's mostly done with everything by the time Astarion comes down to join him, munching thoughtfully on the last of his dessert (a batch of very tasty and buttery biscuits) as he considers how best to barter with an old collector who may be loath to part with her things. People like that usually say that they can't be persuaded by coin; Iorveth has no clue what else he could barter with, which is a bit of a pain.
Anyway. He looks up, and motions for Astarion to sit next to him if he'd like. ]
I left you some wine.